Love to Lose
by Nutmeggedya
Summary: A Ravenclaw sixth year can't see what's right before her eyes, and neither can Dean Thomas. Please read and review
1. Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing; JK Rowling rules and owns all. Even the names of the Ravenclaw girls are all taken from Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone. They were all mentioned at the sorting ceremony, except for Amelia Moon. The last name "Moon" was mentioned, but her first name and house were my own whim.

**Chapter 1 **

Tiny rivulets of water streamed down Lisa's face, traced the outline of her nose, and dripped to the cold tiled floor. The warm water was refreshing and a shower was just what she had needed to calm down. The day's events had diminished her already bruised ego and she couldn't bear to think about it anymore.

She poured a dollop of fragrant shampoo into her palm and washed her long, curly brown hair. Scrubbing her fingertips vigorously over her scalp, she willed the ever churning gears in her mind to take a break for once.

As a Ravenclaw, her mind constantly dissected people, ideas, thoughts, and events with out asking Lisa's consent first. She willed her mind to empty, urged her thoughts to flow out of her ears and rush down the drain with the dirty water. She didn't want to think about what had happened any more, or ever again for that matter. Which meant, naturally, that the little movie screen in her mind's eye instantly kicked to life and began to remember with double the speed and double the clarity.

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_"LISA!" The shrill shout pierced through the hubbub of the buzzing conversations that overwhelmed Platform 9 ¾. Recognizing the distinct voice of her best friend, Lisa turned toward the source of the sound a second too late. A she turned her head, a flash of black and gray hurtled at her out of no where and collided with Lisa's stomach._

_ Lisa let out an "Oomph!" from the impact and then returned Padma Patil's tight embrace with a grin. After a few seconds, the two almost sixth year Ravenclaws took a step back and beamed at each other. _

_"You marvelous, dollink, simply marvelous!" Padma gushed with a flap of the hand and a cheesy New York accent, stealing a line out of the American book series, Gossip Girl. Ever since the Patil's had taken a trip to the States, this had been a running inside joke. Padma drew her jokes from all kinds of sources and never failed to make Lisa laugh._

_Giggling, the girls took hold of their trolleys and made their way toward the Hogwarts Express. _

_"So Paris treated you well, huh?" she continued with a suggestive nudge of her elbow into Lisa's ribcage. "You look really good, for real. Healthy and glowing and stuff."_

_Lisa rolled her eyes as the conductor helped them with their trunks. Lisa was really insecure about her appearance. Padma knew about her self-consciousness and had been on a mission to cure it since their first year. Six years later and her success had been minimal._

_"No, seriously!" Padma assured Lisa as they settled into a compartment of the train. "You look -"_

_"Like a cow!" Pansy Parkinson, a Slytherin sixth year, interrupted scathingly as she passed by their compartment. " If I were you, I'd be throwing up my lunch right now and then sprinting for the Slimfast." Pansy's cronies cracked up and Pansy looked smug as Lisa blushed crimson in shame. Ever since she overheard Padma and Lisa talking in their first year, Pansy had never given up the chance to torment Lisa about her size._

_Loyal Padma came to the rescue, furiously jabbing her wand at the hysterical tormenters. "Listen up, you slimeball!" she shouted at Pansy, silencing the crew immediately. "You'd better stay away from my friend or I'm gonna -"_

_"Jinx me?" she scoffed, one eyebrow cocked skeptically. "You don't have the guts, Ravenclaw."_

_"Try me." Padma growled threateningly._

_"I'd rather not waste my energy on a Mudblood and a Muggle lover," Pansy said condescendingly, smiling at both girls' cries of outrage. With a flamboyant swish of her robes, the Pureblood marched out of the compartment, friends snickering behind her._

_Padma was shaking with rage. Her chocolate eyes were clouded with anger and repulsion and her face was bright red all the way up to her raven black hair line. "I can't believe her!" Padma stormed, pacing the small compartment. "What bullshit! She is the slimiest, greasiest, rudest little whor -"_

_She was cut off by the entrance of their two other Ravenclaw friends and roommates, Amelia Moon and Mandy Brocklehurst. Mandy was a tall and gangly blue-eyed blonde with a gaggle of freckles spattering her nose and cheeks. Even though her five foot eight frame was intimidating, Mandy had to be the gentlest person Lisa knew. Amelia was the shortest of the quartet, with a short brown ponytail and crackling green eyes. Tiny Amelia was no push over, fearless and stubborn as a mule._

_Amelia cocked a dark eyebrow. "Please continue, Padma, I was deprived from listening to trash talk while spending the entire summer with my ancient grandparents."_

_"Sorry," Padma said sheepishly. "It's just that bi-, I mean that bum, Parkinson, completely insulted Lisa and I and we couldn't even retaliate!" Padma had regained her fury all over again._

_"Shh, take a deep breath," Amelia ordered. "In…out…in…out. Good, now tell us what happened."_

_As Padma recounted the story, Lisa sat with her head buried in her hands. Mandy rubbed her back in small, soothing circles. Amelia inhaled a quick breath between her teeth when seething Padma finished. "That bitch," was all she could muster and she plopped down on the seat beside the distraught Lisa._

_"Lisa, you know you aren't heavy. Mandy said rationally. Lisa sighed internally. She knew how this conversation was going to go; the four friends had covered this topic thousands of times._

_"Yeah, Lis, you're perfect the way you are," Amelia assured her._

_"We'd love you if you were the size of a hippo or the size of a chipmunk," Padma informed her. "And if you were the size of a chipmunk, we'd let you ride around in our pockets."_

_Where as such a comment would have provoked a smile, Lisa wasn't in the mood. "Parkinson is right and you know it," she said, her voice cracking. Her friends began to protest, but Lisa plowed on. She had started and now she couldn't seem to stop. "Open your eyes, guys! You're supposed to be smart. Look at it objectively; that's what you're good at, right?" she said harshly. "I'm a size eight, 140 pounds. I don't have your grace, Padma, or your waist, Mandy, or Amelia's beautiful eyes. I have brown eyes, brown hair, and a waist like a tree trunk. I'm sixteen and haven't been kissed, and this must be the reason why. I'm not mean. I'm not stupid. But apparently I'm fat." Tears started to parade down her face as she slammed the compartment door and ran to the bathroom, leaving her disappointed friends behind._

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Fresh tears leaked from Lisa's eyes and merged with the water that toppled out of the faucet above. She was ashamed of her actions, but had meant every word. Still, she couldn't bear to have rifts between her friends and herself and she had apologized profusely before dinner.

Dinner. Lisa shuddered as her mind flicked back to the opening banquet: Parkinson tripping her with a spell right under Snape's nose; the obnoxious moos coupled with peals of laughter that had erupted from the Slytherin table all night long; the pity in her friends' eyes and the knowing looks they shared with each other throughout the meal.

Lisa resolutely traced the bluish bruise on her arm where it had hit the base of a suit of armor during her fall. Her eyes traveled from her arm to her waist and her fingers prodded her belly. She was strong, that was for sure; eleven years of soccer had seen to that. Her parents were Muggles, and she played defense in a summer league near her home. Her soccer skills were the only thing she was proud of, alongside her intelligence. Her legs, arms, and abs were muscled and strong and she could take out anyone who came her way. She could sprint, although endurance wasn't high on her list of attributes, and she could kick a ball half way down the pitch. Best of all, she had a mean nutmeg.

Despite all of this, she still carried too many extra pounds. She tugged at the skin on her stomach and then sucked in; only then were her abs defined. With a sigh she let her stomach go back to normal. She hated the way she looked.

Turning the shower off, Lisa toweled dry and stepped into her coziest pajamas. Trotting into her dormitory, Lisa settled on her bed and prepared to unload her crammed trunk.

"Hey Lis!" Padma called from her four poster bed, interrupting her animated conversation with Mandy and Amelia. "Who's on your shirt?"

Halfway through taking up a poster of the Italian team above her bed, the shocked Lisa let it slither to the mattress. She stared at her friend incredulously. Sometimes she forgot that all her friends were brought up in the wizarding world and some of their questions were surprising.

"It's Elmo!" she cried, shocked to her very core. "From Sesame Street!"

"Oh, is that a street near where you live?" Mandy asked innocently.

Lisa covered her eyes with her hands and moaned. "No, no, no, it's a TV show!" And with that, she launched into a full blown explanation of Big Bird, Elmo, and Oscar the Grouch, her wide-eyed friends hanging on her every word. When she ended, she finished tacking up her poster, patiently waiting for her intrigued friends to process all of this news.

Mandy broke the silence. "I still don't get this whole soccer thing." Lisa groaned. So they were going to have this conversation again.

"Yeah," Amelia agreed. "They don't even move in that poster. How boring is that?"

"It's fun!" Lisa defended herself.

"Yeah, yeah, what ever you say, dollink." Lisa threw a pillow at Padma as the others laughed. Padma continued, "I think you're one of the only two people in this whole entire castle who has a poster of soccer people above your bed."

This was news to the group. "Who else has one?"

"Dean Thomas." This remark drew blank stares and Padma sighed. "You know, tall, dark, Gryffindor, extremely hot," she prompted.

"Oh!" Amelia squealed. "Now I know who you're talking about! Seamus Finnigan's friend, right?"

Padma nodded, and Lisa and Mandy realized who she was talking about, too. "How do you know he has soccer posters?" Mandy asked.

"My sister," Padma replied matter-of-factly. Her twin, Parvati, was a Gryffindor. "Ron Weasely and Harry Potter are in his dorm, and they told Hermione Granger, who is in my sister's dorm, and Parvati told me. Apparently he has two or three posters and he's supposed to be good, although I can't judge that."

"Whoa, Lisa, I think we just found your soul mate!" Her friends giggled as Lisa threw the second pillow of the night at Amelia.

"Amelia is so right!" Padma laughed, and Lisa glared at her. "No, take it as a compliment, dollink, he's some hot stuff!"

Everyone laughed and Padma put on a high pitched falsetto and continued, "Mmmmm, wouldn't I love to spread him on a cracker!"

Still laughing, Mandy added, "I don't know, I think Blaise Zabini is pretty good looking."

Padma mimed throwing up with very accurate sound affects as the other girls squealed in disgust. "Ew, Mandy!" Lisa cried, clutching the stitch in her side from laughter. "He's in Slytherin! And he's a pig, too."

"I never said he was nice," Mandy said sweetly. "He just has a nice ass." More laughter erupted as Amelia countered Mandy's comment with, "Yeah, but not once as nice as the Weasely twins! Boy, did they grow up well…."

Most of the night continued on in this manner. Lisa went to bed feeling content, and for once her mind was at rest.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Across the castle in Gryffindor Tower, Dean Thomas was putting up with the same grief from his roommates that Lisa had put up with hers.

"They're perfectly good posters!" Dean shouted for the umpteenth time.

"Yeah, perfectly good posters for the trash bin," Ron Weasely retorted, much to the amusement to the other boys in the circular dorm room. "It'll really spruce it up. The trash bin was sort of a gloomy place the last time I checked."

Throwing a punch at Ron's shoulder, Dean defended himself, "Soccer's a demanding sport! Players have to be strong and lithe and fast and -"

"Cut the crap, Dean! We've had enough lectures from Professor Binns in the last five years to satisfy all of our speech needs," Seamus Finnigan, Dean's best friend, interrupted. "Please, don't go all noble on us, dude." Dean growled and whipped a pair of balled up socks that had been halfway from Dean's trunk to his bureau at Seamus's head. Seamus ducked, laughing, and threw the socks back to their owner.

Simmering, Dean tapped the poster with his wand, gluing it to the wall permanently.

"Lighten up, Dean, we're only messing with you," Harry Potter informed him brightly. "Although Quidditch is the best sport in the whole world, so I don't really see where soccer fits in…."

Neville Longbottom chipped in with a chuckle, "Don't worry, you convinced us not to take things too far when it comes to soccer way back in our first year."

Ron grimaced as the boys took a quick stroll down memory lane. Maybe a month into their stay at Hogwarts, Ron had drawn bras and panties on all of the stationary players in Dean's soccer poster's. Ron's artistic abilities had earned him a trip off a third story balcony and into the frigid lake below.

Relenting with a sigh, Dean resumed unpacking his trunk. As he lifted his red Adidas soccer ball tenderly from its nest in his trunk, a thought hit him. Smugly, he said, "I'm not the only one in the school who's a soccer nut, you know."

Seamus scoffed. "Newsflash for Dean Thomas. Sorry dude, but yes, you are." Skeptical, Neville bobbed his head in agreement, but Harry and Ron reluctantly disagreed.

"Actually, he's right," Harry said dejectedly. Neville's eyes widened and Seamus's jaw dropped.

"Dean? Right? Are you sure?" he wondered, amazed.

Ron looked defeated. "Damn, I forgot about that," he sighed. Turning to Seamus he added, "Yeah, he's right."

"Wow," Seamus breathed. "Correct for the first time in his life." Laughing, Dean swatted at him, but Seamus ducked. Instead, he held out his arm and pretended to wave a microphone in front of Dean's nose. "And here's a live report from Dean Thomas himself. So, Dean, how does it feel?"

The boys laughed as Neville asked, "Who is it?"

Ron explained, "Well, Hermione told me and Harry, and she heard it from Parvati Patil, who heard it from her twin in Ravenclaw, who saw it with her own eyes, seeing as she's in the soccer junkie's dormitory."

"So who is it?"

Ron drew a blank. "Uhh…."

Dean interjected, "It's Lisa Turpin, you know, Padma's friend." This only drew raised eyebrows. "Average height, average stature, long brown hair." When none of this worked, Dean rolled his eyes and added, "Maybe like a size 36B bust."

Realization dawned on the shallow boys with that statement and the dormitory was filled with mutterings of "Oh yeah!" and "She's in our potion's class."

Ron closed his eyes for a few moments, as if the backs of his eyelids were mini-television screens. His eyes popped open and he added, "Not bad looking, if I do say so myself, although no one really beats Her - I mean…." Ron trailed off, looking sheepish, his entire freckled face maroon up to his flaming hairline.

They boys ignored the comment, and conversation turned to who was the best looking witch in the year. Pleased with the fact that the topic under discussion had taken a turn away from soccer, Dean contentedly finished unpacking and slid into bed. Sleep washed over him once the dormitory went silent some time later, and dreams of a thong-and-lace-bra-clad David Beckham playing soccer with the giant squid took over his mind.


	3. Chapter 3

DISCLAIMER: Yeah, still not mine. Also, I took some insults from my very handy Insult-a-Day calendar. So those aren't mine either.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks a bundle to my two reviewers! You guys rock my socks! I'd appreciate it if everyone else followed their example...(wink, wink) Also, does anyone know who the head of Ravenclaw house is? My guess is Sinistra, but I'm too lazy to look it up. Correct me if I'm wrong, s'il vous plait!

**Chapter 3**

Frazzled, Lisa couldn't stem the flow of words streaming from her mouth as she and her friends zipped down the stairs to the Great Hall for breakfast.

"…so I hope Snape lets me continue with Potions. He only lets in students who got O's on their O.W.L.'s and I just barely got an Outstanding! Oh, crap, he might reject me! How would I work for the Ministry then? Who's going to stealthily influence the laws and regulations of the wizarding world if I can't work for the Ministry? Holy mother of Merlin, what if I don't get into any N.E.W.T. classes? What if I -"

"Lisa, will you please SHUT UP?" Amelia roared, silencing Lisa immediately. Massaging her temples, Amelia heaved a sigh. "Ahh, that's better. Wow, I can hear myself think again! Welcome back, thoughts!"

Ignoring Amelia, Mandy gently patted the terrified Lisa on the shoulder. "Stop worrying, Lis. You got, like, ten O.W.L.'s. You've got nothing to worry about."

"Except for Pansy Parkinson," Padma muttered heatedly under her breath. Lisa groaned as the pig-snouted Slytherin and her gang rounded the corner. Lisa made to duck behind a statue of a warlock with a bad case of acne, but Parkinson caught sight of them too soon.

"Look who strayed from the pasture!" Parkinson called as an explosion of giggles and moos erupted from the Slytherins. Flushing crimson at the rude comment, Lisa and her friends turned to face the approaching parade.

"Who's ruling hell why you're gone, Parkinson?" Amelia spat, fists on her hips in a defiant pose.

Parkinson scoffed. "Good one, pipsqueak. I knew they put you in Ravenclaw for a reason." The sarcasm hit hard and Mandy had to physically restrain Amelia as she ferociously clawed the air in front of Pansy's face.

"C'mon, guys, let's just go…" Lisa muttered, wringing her hands nervously.

"Looks like the Mudblood cow's soft on the inside and the outside, huh?" Parkinson harshly interjected, coaxing more laughs from her cronies.

Padma, who had been striving to stay calm through out the entire episode, finally lost her patience. "Mudblood?" she yelled, jabbing a finger at Parkinson's chest. "That's low, Parkinson. Take it back, right now!"

Pansy smiled smugly. "Over my dead body."

"Whatever," Padma hissed, barely two inches from Parkinson's face. "Just leave Lisa alone. She's never done anything to you! During six years of your cruel, pointless tormenting, never once has she retaliated!"

"There's some logic behind that, though. You see, she's so fat that her reflexes are slower than death. By the time she pulls out her wand to fight back, I'm long gone."

Lisa felt tears spring to her eyes. She was so humiliated! Shame swamped her, but she couldn't even muster up enough courage to respond to the teasing. Quickly turning on her heel, Lisa sped off toward the Ravenclaw common room amid gales of laughter from the Slytherin girls. She hadn't even taken five strides when a spell hit her from behind.

"ENGORGIO!'

Lisa screamed in pain as her body ballooned up to twice its size. Tumultuous laughter spewed from onlookers and the hysterical Slytherins as her body inflated so much that she began to float toward thecavernousceiling. Flailing her arms and legs in a wild attempt tosail back to earth, Lisa panicked upon hearing her frenzied friends below her fruitlessly debating a way to get her down.

"I don't have my wand!"

"Me neither! It's in my school bag!'

"Parkinson ran away! She's not going to be punished!"

"We need a teacher!"

"No shit, Sherlock!"

Lisa yelled out in pain again as her body convulsed and continued to enlarge. Every muscle was stretched way beyond its capacity and she felt like she was going to black out from the increasing tension. She had to be the size of a small bear, and was still growing. She felt her robes rip andthe buttons on her blouse pop off one by one. Her bracelet dug into the tender flesh of her gigantic wrist.

Abruptly, the ceiling loomed directly in front of Lisa's humongous nose. She was going to crash! Shielding her face with her hands, she shrieked and -

"REDUCTO!" a deep voice hollered from the ground.

The spell hit her in the back immediately before she collided. Screaming, Lisa hurtled toward the stone floor asspectators gasped, only to be slowed at the last moment by a levitation spell. Strong arms caught her gently as her aching body regained its natural size.

Her vision was fuzzy, like looking through a windshield while driving in a downpour. Eyelids fluttering, a dark, unrecognizable face swam in and out of focus. Her savoir cleared his throat, and in a low, husky voice said uncomfortably, "Um, you might want to replace that blouse."

Lisa's body went limp in a dead faint.

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Soft voices tickled Lisa's consciousness.

"…shh, Mandy, you'll wake her up!" Amelia urgently whispered.

"But I just feel s-so b-b-bad!" Mandy sobbed quietly. "We couldn't h-help her or any th-thing! Parkinson g-got her when her b-back was turned!"

Padma soothed her, "Don't blame yourself. None of us could do anything about it. We didn't have our wands. We now know that that is practically suicide in the wizarding world. It was immensely irresponsible of us to leave our wands in our dorm room. I can't even begin to explain how stupid we are."

"You guys are so stupid that your foreheads would cave in if exposed to the gentlest of breezes."

Her friends gasped as Lisa cracked the joke, trying to make light of the situation, although strain was evident in her hoarse voice. Mandy, Amelia, and Padma promptly sat down on the edge oftheir newly-awakened friend'shospital bed, fluttering over her like butterflies on steroids.

"How are you feeling? How can I help?"

"Do you need anything? I can prop your pillow or get you some water or…."

"I'm s-so s-sorry!"

Smiling slightly, Lisa rasped, "Yeah, I'm okay, and Mandy,don't worry about it. I've definitely been better, though," she added, wincing at the dull ache that had nestled into every joint and muscle in her body. "What happened?"

"You can't remember?" Padma asked incredulously as Mandy hiccupped viciously and Amelia earnestly tried to calm her.

"Nope," Lisa replied. Her mind was all fuzzy, like radio static.

"Must be all the drugs," Amelia said with a wise nod of her head.

"What?" Lisa yelped. "What drugs? I do drugs? Hoy shit, I do drugs?"

Laughing Padma responded, "No, you idiot. Stop hyperventilating! Madam Pomfrey had to give you about six different kinds of potions. Parkinson hit you with a nasty enlargement spell."

Lisa groaned and covered her face with her hands as she recalled the incident. Seeing her distress, Padma lightly patted her arm. "Don't worry; I'm sure everyone has forgotten it by now."

"Yeah, right. How long has it been since I…you know…?"

Hesitating, Padma said, "Two days."

"WHAT?" Lisa hollered, flabbergasted. "TWO DAYS? I missed the first TWO DAYS of classes? I missed so much information already! I'm not going to be able to graduate and then I'll have to be a witch who cleans toilets at the Leaky Cauldron and no one will love me and I'll die alone and -!"

Amelia stuffed the bedcovers in Lisa's mouth, halting her rambling. "Hush!" she commanded, and Lisa didn't really have a choice but to oblige. She couldn't have moved her tongue if she tried.

"You're going to be _fine_," Amelia assured her, staring at her pointedly. "You're in Ravenclaw, for Rowena's sake! You're clever enough to catch up in a jiffy." Acquiescing, Lisa nodded to show her agreement, and Amelia extracted the bedcovers.

After a moment of silence, Lisa ventured, "So who was it that stopped my fall?"

The three girls hesitated again, sharing skeptical glances. Slowly, Mandy informed her, "It was Dean Thomas, you know, the soccer nut. He reacted to your screams before a teacher had a chance to turn up and kept his head long enough to perform the counter spell."

Lisa colored a little bit, remembering the context of the conversation in which Dean's name had appeared the other night.

Clearing her throat, Mandy drew Lisa's attention back to her. "That's not all though. When you were, um, growing, you kind of…." Mandy trailed off looking embarrassed.

Padma sighed and continued for her friend, sympathy scrawled across her features. "I hate to tell you this, but you sort of grew out of your robes _and _your blouse when you ballooned up."

Eyes widened in disbelief, Lisa murmured, horrified, "No. Flipping. Way."

Amelia looked concerned. "So when Dean caught you, you were only wearing a bra."

Peeking down her dressing gown, Lisa moaned and sank deeper into her pillows, pulling her blanket over her head. She was wearing her sports bra that said, "Take it off like Brandi Chastain."

Clearing her throat hastily, Padma added optimistically, "At least it was a magical bra that only you can take off and will never tear. I told you that a jinxed Muggle bra was a good birthday present!"

What was the world coming to?

AUTHOR'S NOTE: For all of you who don't know, Brandi Chastain played for the U.S. women's team and ripped off her jersey after winning a world cup match, exposing her sports bra. Sorry if that wasn't clear - I took a shot at creativity. : )


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note/Disclaimer: I apologize for taking ages to update this story. I don't know what came over me; I must have been under the Imperius Curse or something. Also, some of the material is taken from Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, which, as you all know, is written by JK Rowling, not me.

Chapter 4

Sore and restless, Lisa tossed and turned in her bed. Madam Pomfrey had confined Lisa to the hospital wing for one more night. All Lisa wanted was to hop out of bed, sprint to her dormitory, and immediately catch up on all her missed work of the past three days. Unfortunately, hopping and sprinting would have to wait until the morning, when the potion the nurse had given her will have finally driven all the pain and swelling from Lisa's body.

The only thing that irritated Lisa more than the loads of schoolwork she couldn't get her hands on ("The key is to _rest_, my dear, _rest_!" Madam Pomfrey had scolded her when Lisa begged for her books and parchment) was the fact that Pansy hadn't been punished. Padma had told her that Snape had witnessed the whole episode, and helped Pansy get off the hook. Pansy blamed it all on Peeves, and Snape backed her up.

So embarrassing! Falling half naked into the arms of a Gryffindor after floating around the ceiling like the Heisenberg! At least some good had come out of the episode: ten points went to Gryffindor for Dean's wonderful ability to keep his head in a crisis. Conversely, Padma, Mandy, and Amelia had lost three points apiece for forgetting their wands in their dormitories.

_I can't believe they forgot their wands!_ Lisa thought incredulously to herself. _Good thing the Sorting Hat didn't mention common sense as criteria for the first years to get into Ravenclaw. My friends wouldn't have been shafted into Hufflepuff! Still,_ Lisa thought, _they wouldn't have been punished for being stupid if Snape hadn't brought it up with Dumbledore. Snape…that slimy prick…._

Thoughts of Snape brought her train of thought back to Pansy. She shuddered. Pansy had commenced her destroy-Lisa's-self-esteem campaign only a couple of hours after the girls' arrival at Hogwarts. Lisa could remember everything perfectly:

Surname beginning with a T, Lisa was one of the last three first years to be sorted. Her heart fluttered with nervous anticipation. One of three! What if she was standing with the rejects? What if they had made a mistake in sending her a letter? What if she wasn't actually a witch and they sent her home on the train instead of sorting her?

Her knees shook as McGonagall called out, "Thomas, Dean," and a black boy, wildly tall for a first year, ambled up to the stool. He sat and plopped the hat onto his head. Lisa was astonished by his steady features and even gait; how could he not be nervous?! She was positively quaking! And the gangly red haired boy next to her looked as if he was about to pass out. Then she noticed his white-knuckled vice grip on the edge of the stool. _So he _is _nervous_, she thought to herself.

Ages passed before the sorting hat finally shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!" Dean's knuckles turned their regular color as he yanked the hat off his head, grinning, and practically sprinted to his table.

Now she was one of the last _two_ first years to be sorted. Gulp.

"Turpin, Lisa," McGonagall called over the cheers of the Gryffindors. Trepidation swamped her. The hall hushed as Lisa stumbled to the stool. She jammed the hat on top of her wavy locks. The hat fell over her eyes.

"Hmm, what have we here?" said a quiet voice in her ear. She jumped, startled. The hat laughed softly. "Not a lot of courage, I see, or self-worth, either. If your gleaming intelligence wasn't so obvious, it would be Hufflepuff for you. But no, intelligence overshadows your low self-esteem – which you should really fix, dearie – so it'd better be RAVENCLAW!"

The Ravenclaws sent up a roar as Lisa tore that hat from her head and trotted over to her table. She felt her cheeks flush pink as she took a seat on the bench next to her friend Padma, who she'd met on the train coming to school. Padma grinned and hugged her, and a bunch of other kids clapped her on the back and shook her hand. Instead of paying attention as the last boy was sorted, she focused on steadying her quaking hands in her lap. By the time Ron had been sent over to join the Gryffindors, she had her extremities under control, and the weight of what had just happened hit her like a ton of spell books.

She was in Ravenclaw! She hadn't been left behind! Wooo!

Professor Dumbledore got to his feet and beamed out at the students, his arms spread wide. The students gave him their attention.

"Welcome!" he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!

"Thank you!"

Lisa's giggles at the headmaster's apparent madness transformed into a gasp as the empty dishes in front of her suddenly filled with every food she could imagine. She suddenly realized how hungry she was. Delicious smells bombarded her nostrils, and she couldn't decide what to eat first. She took a little bit of everything.

Then she took a little bit more.

After ten minutes of steady eating, she was more than full. But she couldn't stop herself. She stopped eating to fill her stomach and started eating to satisfy her taste buds. She took more chicken, more potatoes, more vegetables – more everything. Some third years to her right snickered and pointed at her. Padma noticed her fervent eating and leaned in and whispered in Lisa's ear, "Are you…okay?" Lisa merely nodded and helped herself to more lamb.

By the end of deserts, however, Lisa wasn't okay at all. As Dumbledore stood to address the students once again, Lisa turned to Padma. "I'm going to be sick she muttered." Hand over her mouth, she sprang up from the bench and rushed from the Great Hall.

Padma found her in the first floor bathroom, heaving. Kindly, Padma pulled Lisa's hair away from her face and held it while Lisa sent her dinner into the toilet in reverse. When Lisa was done, Padma hugged her while she cried, and then sent her to the sink to rinse her mouth and wash her tear stained face.

"What got into you?" Padma asked, leaning against one of the sinks while Lisa washed up at another.

"Sorry," Lisa muttered by way of explanation. Padma cocked an eyebrow at her, and Lisa elaborated, "I have no clue. I was so full, but…I just couldn't help myself. I just…it's no wonder I'm not skinny."

"What are you on about?" Padma wondered, surprised.

"What, can't you see?" said a voice. The two Ravenclaws jumped as Pansy Parkinson emerged from one of the stalls, grinning mischievously. Neither Padma nor Lisa had thought to check and see if they were alone. Pansy met Lisa's red, streaming eyes in her reflection in the bathroom mirror. Lisa winced, and Pansy turned her gaze to Padma.

"I would think a Ravenclaw could pick up on the obvious," Pansy scoffed. "She's not exactly a broomstick, is she? More like one of the castle's towers."

"She's perfectly average!" Padma cried.

Pansy laughed. "Average? Hah! She just ate half of the food in the great hall! She's a pig! No, a cow!" Pansy laughed at her own joke.

As Lisa glared at Pansy behind her in the mirror, she wasn't sure whose reflection she despised more.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The Great Hall buzzed with chatter and laughter as the Halloween feast came to a close. Benches scraped along the stone floor as students stood to leave. Seamus made to join the throng exiting the hall, thought twice, and doubled back to the Gryffindor table to stuff his pockets with deserts. Dean watched Seamus scoop handfuls of pudding into his robes, and rolled his eyes.

Glancing furtively at the teacher's table to make sure he hadn't been spotted, Seamus trotted over to where Dean waited. "What?" Seamus said defensively in response to his friend's cocked eyebrow. "What if I get hungry in the common room later?"

"Cheers to that, mate," Ron cried as he strode past them, brandishing a chicken leg in one hand and an apple in the other. Like Seamus, Ron's pockets were bulging with deserts and bits of dinner.

"I don't understand how you can have room for more food after a feast like that," Hermione Granger quipped. "I feel positively full." Dean and Seamus followed Ron and Hermione, who were now bickering, out of the hall.

"Shut up, Hermione, I'm hungry," Ron defended himself, his mouth full of chicken.

"You are _always_ hungry, Ronald!" Hermione moaned, frustrated. "You just had three helpings of dinner and a plate of deserts! How can you want more?"

"I'm a growing boy!" Ron retorted indignantly.

"Soon you're going to start growing sideways instead of up, and we'll see how you feel about food then!"

"But I'm _hungry_, Hermione!" Ron complained.

Seamus patted Ron on the back sympathetically. "Women," he sighed. "They just don't understand." Ron nodded fervently. Seamus continued, patting his pockets, "We'll have a second feast in the common room before bed."

"Save some for me," Dean told Seamus as the others mounted the stair case.

"You're not coming?" Seamus said.

Dean jerked his head towards the bathroom down the hall. "One too many goblets of pumpkin juice, if you know what I mean. I'll meet you in the common room in a few minutes."

Seamus grinned. "I'll save you some treacle tart!" he called to Dean as he was herded up the stairs with the rest of the Gryffindors. As Dean rounded the corner, faint strains of Hermione and Ron's argument were still audible. He heard Hermione, fuming, tell Ron that if he kept up his eating habits, he'd end up turning into Crabbe, as if doing it once wasn't enough. He grinned, wondering if there was something the two were masking with their constant nagging and arguing.

Dean pushed open the heavy door of the boys' bathroom. It was empty, and Dean ventured into a stall. He flushed the toilet and was washing his hands when he heard a gurgling coming from the toilet he had just used. Drying his hands, he pushed open the stall door to investigate.

Suddenly, a translucent blur rocketed out of the toilet. Wailing, the blur shot through his chest, and he gasped, stumbling backwards, as chills swept through his body. Water gushed from the bowl, swamping Dean's sneakers and leaving puddles on the floor. Shivering, Dean turned, and realized Moaning Myrtle was in the first floor boys' bathroom.

Myrtle zoomed around the bathroom, sustaining a long, high pitched scream. Finally, she settled down on the edge of a sink, and pulled at her opaque, brown hair, muttering to herself furiously. Dean watched her rock back and forth for a moment, and realized she hadn't noticed him at all. He cleared his throat. She looked up at him, surprised out of her muttering.

"Erm," he began articulately. "Hello, Myrtle."

"How do you know my name?" she wondered, forgetting her obvious frustration for a moment.

"Well, everyone knows you haunt the second floor girls' room, after what happened my second year and all…."

Myrtle eyed him suspiciously for a moment, and then resumed her screeching.

"Hey, Myrtle," Dean called, trying to get her attention again. "MYRTLE!"

She quieted and glared at him. "Yes?" she implored icily.

"What's wrong?"

"What's wrong? WHAT'S WRONG?" she roared. "For two months – TWO MONTHS! – every day since the start of term, that…that…GIRL! She's vile! Vulgar! Always in my toilet! Always in MY U-BEND!"

"What happens in your U-bend?" Dean prompted.

"VOMIT!" she screeched, flying off the edge of the sink and coming to a halt inches from Dean's face. He stumbled backwards, startled. "VOMIT!" she screamed again, "Vomit is what's happening my U-bend! Every day after dinner – sometimes after lunch – I just can't take it anymore! I had to get away! I had to leave my bathroom and come to this…this…BOYS' BATHROOM!"

Dean thought that Myrtle's complaints about an invasion of her living space were hiding a more serious problem. "Someone's been sick after every dinner since the start of term? Is the food making them sick?" Dean thought that was impossible. The quality of the food at Hogwarts surpassed that of most five star restaurants.

Myrtle scoffed. "Oh, she's sick all right, but it's not from the food. She didn't start until two days after term started. It's her pointer finger that does it, not the cooking."

Dean's jaw dropped. "She's _making_ herself sick? Myrtle, that's really bad! That's like…a disease! She needs to see Madam Pomfrey! Who is it?"

"Oh, I don't know her name. I never talk to her. She's always too busy crying. Anyway, I don't associate with people who VOMIT in my U-BEND!" She promptly began to wail again.

Dean started to feel his temper rising, but controlled himself. He was genuinely worried about whoever was wrecking Myrtle's favorite bit of plumbing. He'd read about plenty of athletes suffering from the same ailments as this mystery girl in the Muggle magazines to know that throwing up after meals is never a good thing.

Finally, Myrtle's cries ceased. She made to dive back into a toilet, but Dean stopped her. "Myrtle! Wait! Please, you have to describe what she looks like!"

Myrtle sniffed. "Why's that?"

"I just…need to know." Dean felt, for some reason, like he needed to rescue this person.

Myrtle sniffed. "She has brown hair. It's very curly, and long."

"How long?"

Myrtle looked very annoyed with him. "Half way down her back."

That wasn't enough information; he knew a few girls with long, brown hair. "What color are her eyes?" he wondered.

Myrtle thought for a moment. "Brown," she said decisively.

Dean's stomach lurched. He had an inkling about who she was, but couldn't be entirely sure. "What…what year do you think she's in? What house?"

"Oh, I don't know. At least fifth, maybe sixth; she's always muttering about how much homework she has."

"And her house?"

"Ravenclaw."

Dean felt dizzy. He knew.

"I've got to go, Myrtle!" he said, rushing towards the door.

"Where?" she demanded. "You're not going to be a hero, are you? She doesn't deserve any sympathy. She should clean out my U-bend, though…."

Myrtle's lack of sensitivity angered Dean. "I'm going to the second floor bathroom to help her, seeing as you've done a lousy job."

"You can't go into the second floor bathroom! That's a _girls'_ bathroom!" Myrtle cried, indignant.

"You're one to talk," Dean spat. He heard Myrtle splash back into the toilet as he sped out of the bathroom and up the stairs.


End file.
